Love Birds
by LadyofDodge
Summary: Kitty was lying face down on her bed, and she didn't bother to turn around when she heard Matt enter the room. He walked to the bed and sat down beside her. He waited a moment, trying to gauge her mood. An ATC for The Way It Is.


**Love Birds**

 **An ATC for "The Way It Is"**

It was a few minutes before seven o'clock when Matt Dillon stepped up to the batwing doors of the Long Branch Saloon. His blue eyes quickly scanned the room, but there was no sign of the one person he wanted to see. He pushed through the doors, and, with a few long strides, reached the bar. "Evening, Sam. Kitty around?" he asked, leaning his forearms on the wooden counter.

The barkeep lifted his eyes toward the closed door at the top of the stairs and answered quietly. "She went upstairs right after you left here this afternoon, and I haven't seen her since."

The lawman was a bit surprised. Kitty had agreed—or at least he thought she had agreed—to have supper with him, and it wasn't like her to keep him waiting. "I'm going to go up and check on her. She was kind of upset this afternoon." Taking the stairs two at a time, Matt quickly reached the landing and knocked on the door to Kitty's room. Not receiving a response, he knocked again, harder this time.

"Who is it?" A strained voice called from behind the door.

"It's me, Kitty. May I come in?"

"No. Go away, Matt."

He tried again. "Please, Kitty, let me in...just for a minute. Just let me see that you're all right." The absurdity of suggesting that she was all right, considering the circumstances, struck him as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but it was too late to take them back. "And then I'll go away."

Once again there was no response from Kitty's side of the door. Matt hesitated a moment, then grabbed the doorknob and gave it a hard twist. Much to his chagrin, the knob turned easily, and the door flew open, propelling him inside and startling both Kitty and the two tiny love birds that twittered in annoyance and eyed him warily from the safety of their cage. Several months ago, the big man with the badge had purchased them from a down-on-his-luck peddler who was passing through town and gave them to the pretty red-haired lady saying they "would keep her company" when he was away. He didn't croon to them or play with them the way the lady did, but he always took a moment to peer into their cage when he visited the lady's room. And he did that a lot! But the big man might very well be the enemy right now. After all, they had been silent witnesses to the acrid argument that had taken place nearly a week ago. They had watched the lady ransack her wardrobe, and they had heard her spew bitter, angry words at the man. They had watched him leave the room saying he would see her when he got back from Topeka. And they had heard her heated, "Don't count on it," delivered to his retreating back. Worst of all, they had witnessed the furious red head slam combs and brushes, jars of face cream and a few articles of clothing into a bag. The lady was going away! Much to their relief, she returned a few days later, and now the big man with the badge was back in the room, too. The birds the lady secretly referred to as Matt and Kitty ruffled their feathers and settled onto their perch to observe what was about to happen.

()()()()()()

Kitty was lying face down on her bed, and she didn't bother to turn around when she heard Matt enter the room. He walked to the bed and sat down beside her. He waited a moment, trying to gauge her mood. She didn't seem mad, just indifferent to his presence. Placing one large hand on her back, he gently turned her around so that she was reluctantly looking up at him—at his badge, his shirt, his vest, anywhere but into his eyes. He took one look at her tear-streaked face and pulled her up against his chest and into his arms. "I'm sorry, Kitty. I know you were…uh…fond of him. I wish I hadn't had to kill him, but he didn't give me any choice. He threatened you. He threatened me. He drew on both of us. I looked into his eyes. Kitty, he was crazy with rage and jealousy, and he intended to kill you. That's a chance I wasn't about to take." He spoke softly into the tangled red curls.

Still, she said not a word, and, while Matt Dillon was the most patient of men, after a long while even he could stand her silence no longer. "Kitty, please...say something."

He felt her take a deep, shuddering breath. "I feel like such a fool," she began in a tiny voice, her face hidden against his broad chest. "Ad was...well, he was different. Like I said, it's as if he was two different men. At first he was light-hearted and spontaneous, and when he asked me to go to the sociable with him, I agreed. We were laughing and having such a good time. Then Rance Somers asked me to dance, same as he does once a year, every year. Of course, I said 'yes,' and Ad went crazy. He just up and punched Rance for..."

"You don't have to tell me the details, Kitty. Chester already told me all about it. He's been plenty worried about you, ya know. Doc and Sam, too."

Kitty nodded. "Anyway, I thought maybe he was just having some kind of reaction to that concussion he had, and I suggested we leave. He seemed all right when we said good night. Then he stopped by for coffee this morning and said tonight we were going out on the prairie to watch a Kansas sunset. I told him I couldn't go, that I had to work, but he refused to listen." She shifted her head to his shoulder. "And then I realized I was saying to Ad the same thing you had been saying to me...about having responsibility and not always being able to do what you want. The more I tried to make him understand, the crazier he got. He hit Sam hard, and he said that...that he was going to kill me. That's when you came in and things... Oh, Matt, I'm so ashamed." Her breath hitched as she added, "Do you hate me?"

"Of course I don't hate you, but I do think we need to talk about this." Lifting her in his arms, he carried her across the room and sat down in the big easy chair with Kitty in his lap. Tucking a wayward curl behind her ear, he traced his thumb along the smooth curve of her cheek and jaw and turned her face up to his. Once again, her eyes slid to a spot somewhere over his left shoulder.

"Listen to me, Kitty," he began softly. "I'm not angry with you, and I certainly don't hate you, but I do want you to pay attention to me. Don't talk, just listen. Okay?" With that, he reached one long arm out to turn up the lamp on the table, just enough so that he could watch her face as he talked to her. "And it would be real nice if you would look at me, too. Please?"

"I don't think I can do that, Matt."

"Sure you can." He rubbed his hand over his jaw. "Maybe I could stand a shave, but I don't look that bad, do I?" He placed his index finger under her chin and tipped her face upward.

"No," she answered with a weak smile, "you look gorgeous to me."

"Well, now...I don't know about that, but...listen, Kitty. I know I can't always be here when you want me to be or when you think I should be. Heck, I can't always be here when **_I_** want to be here either. You want me to be around to take you to dances and weddings. Well, Kitty, believe it or not, I want that, too. I want to be around to do those special things with you."

"Oh, Matt, you know you hate parties. You..."

He stopped her words with a light brush of his lips against hers. "I don't exactly hate them, Kitty. It's just that I'm not comfortable getting all gussied up and making pleasant talk with a bunch of people, but I do like being at the parties with you." He grinned. "Fact is, it makes me feel mighty special knowing the most beautiful woman in Ford County—in the whole state of Kansas—chose this bumblin' cowboy to be her date." He paused for a moment, savoring her beautiful face, and then continued, "And I really do like dancing with you because…" he added conspiratorially, "because it's the only time I get to hold you in my arms in public and let everyone... What's wrong, honey? What'd I do now?" Matt broke off his declaration as the tears that had been shimmering in Kitty's sapphire eyes spilled over and rolled down her cheeks.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Matt. It's just…that's the longest, sweetest speech you've ever made. I love it, and I love you for saying those things," she answered as she smiled through her tears and pulled his head down so that she could press her lips against his. For several long moments, Matt held her close, draping her across his lap and kissing her lips, her neck, and the warm, soft skin rising from the low cut neckline of her dress. He felt her shiver as his mouth moved over her body and he gathered her closer into his embrace.

"I need to tell you something, Matt."

"There's nothing you need to tell me, Kitty, but if it will make you feel better, I'll listen."

"No, I need to say this. I didn't...uh...I mean...Ad...and I…we didn't..."

"I know, Kitty. I know." Matt's voice was husky and low against her throat. "Now let's put this whole ugly mess behind us. Okay?"

Kitty cuddled into is shoulder and then sat up with a start. "You must be starved."

"Yeah, I am," he agreed with a mischievous light in his eyes and a seductive grin on his face.

"Oh, you!" She swatted his arm. "I mean for food...we were supposed to have supper nearly two hours ago."

"I can wait. What about you?"

"I don't feel much like eating right now, and I really don't want to see people. Let's just stay here. I'll fry up some eggs if you get hungry."

"Fine," he answered and stood Kitty on her feet as he rose from the chair, moving about the room and stretching the kinks from his long frame as he did so.

Kitty was busy lighting the lamps and pouring drinks when she noticed Matt rummaging through her chifferobe, intently looking for something. He searched until he came to the emerald green dress she had savagely dangled in front of him days before—the dress she hadn't gotten to wear to last year's sociable because he was out of town. One of the many reminders of her 'disappointments,' her 'closet full of rejections.' Those were the words she had hurled at him. _Well, she's not going to be rejected or disappointed this night, not if I can help it._

"Put this on for me, please," he said, handing the dress over to a confused Kitty.

"Matt, why would I want to..." she started to ask.

"Please, just go behind the screen and put it on. I don't want to look until you're finished. Do it for me, hmmm?"

"Oh, all right," she agreed and went behind the big painted dressing screen to change her clothes. Funny, Matt generally liked to lie on the bed watching her dress, but tonight he was moving about the room, turning the wicks on the oil lamps up and down, moving the ottoman close against the chair and working himself into the most distant corner of the room. "Here I come, ready or not," she called, and emerged from behind the screen.

His heart literally skipped a beat as he looked at the strikingly beautiful woman across the room. He had no words of his own to describe the feelings of tenderness and love he felt for her, but from the far recesses of his memory came the words of an old song. Deep in his chest he began to hum the tune as he slowly crossed the room to her, his blue eyes smoldering with love and desire. When he reached her, he drew her into his arms, and his humming gave way to words sung in a deep, rich baritone. " _Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me..."_

As they danced across the room, he continued the song. _"List while I woo thee with soft melody."_

Kitty finally found her voice enough to whisper, "Matt, that's absolutely incredible...I had no idea..."

" _Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,"_ he turned her face up to his and covered her mouth with the most gentle of kisses. " _Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart..."_

"Matt, this is so amazing...I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, Kitty. It's kind of my way of apologizing for missing the dance. And I truly am sorry if it seems like I take you for granted. I've never meant to do that, but I guess maybe it sometimes seems that way to you. You're wrong about one thing, though—never, ever have I thought of you as 'one of the boys.'"

He grinned and slowly danced her over to the big bed, where he pulled her down beside him and began undoing the row of tiny buttons she had so recently fastened. With frequent pauses for kisses and caresses, they slowly undressed each other and slipped beneath the cool sheets. Lying side-by-side in each other's arms, Matt kissed her again with all the love that was in his heart, but that he could never bring himself to speak aloud. "Kitty, you do realize this doesn't change anything—not who I am or the job I have to do. I don't own the general store and I don't keep banker's hours. I can't promise I'll be here to take you to the next dance or party, but please believe that I want to be here. I don't like having to disappoint you, but odds are, I will—again. And remember, it disappoints me, too, when I have to break a date with you, when I can't do the things we planned." He paused, but there was one more thing he had to say. "I'm sorry I'm not the man you want me to be, but I can't change, Kitty, I..."

"I don't want you to change, Cowboy. I love the man you are—kind, gentle, caring, _responsible._ You're a good man, Matt, the best man I've ever known, and I'd rather be with you on your terms than with any other man on mine," she answered as she turned onto her back and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, welcoming the weight of his body on hers.

()()()()()()()()()()

And, on the other side of the room, in their little gilded cage, Matt and Kitty fluffed their feathers, nestled against each other, and peeped softly, content with all that they had seen and heard.

 _"Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart…starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee."_

 _The End_

"Beautiful Dreamer," Stephen C. Foster, 1864.


End file.
